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My mother and grandmother always made a big deal about birthdays in our family. I so appreciate the joyful and unique way everyone’s special day was celebrated. I’ve done my best to pass on enthusiasm for birthdays to my children, who now love birthdays.
However, these days I notice a growing reluctance to celebrate my birthday and to speak the truth about my age. I’m 62 but in saying that, I feel like I’m breaking an unwritten rule. My grandmother never spoke about her age, no matter what birthday it was!
Although the aging process is challenging in many ways, both physically and mentally, losing my words is the hardest thing for me (so far!). Words have always been reliable friends and now are becoming slippery tricksters. Last week I was telling a (younger) friend a story and the simple word i needed in the moment evaded me. What did I do? I used my hands to describe “a large metal outdoor thing on my deck that is like a tent, protecting me from the rain”. My friend looked at me and said, “Do you mean a gazebo?” I nodded mutely.
At that moment, i had a choice: slide into the embarrassment of an older person, or choose to be mindful and return to awareness. With years of practice, I was graced with a moment of mindfulness. This is what it’s like to age: you forget things. I did not slide into shame or old patterns. Instead, I chose this moment to breathe through and came back into the moment and share a laughing moment with my friend. (If you’re interested, try my short meditation on returning to this present moment)
Again, and again, moment by moment, I let go of fear and negativity surrounding aging. Rather than letting it overwhelm me, I try to remember that there is only this moment. Not that this is easy! We’re a youth-oriented society and value the energy and unlined beauty of youth more than the experience and wisdom of being older.
My grandmother and mother worked very hard to look younger. They, like millions of women – including me – bought creams that promised to eliminate “fine lines and wrinkles”. My mother, carrying he same gene I have that makes your hair turn grey in your twenties, began dying her hair at age 27 and continued until the end of her life.
When I stopped colouring my hair ten years ago, I reverted to my natural white and looked just like my grandmother, who never dyed her hair. I embraced the freedom – particularly not worrying about fast growing white roots – but I also had my first experiences of ageism: becoming less visible and less seen, and by implication, less deserving of being seen.
Lots of people work to prevent ageist attitudes, but it’s not always easy. For me, it’s easier when I integrate mindful awareness and non judgment. Then, I can focus on healthy aging rather than obsessing about my appearance. So now I work to maintain a strong, vibrant body rather than trying to get rid of wrinkles and white hair.
One of the ways I can celebrate aging is to revel in birthdays and continue to share my age out loud with pride, as my mother did, and encourage others to do the same.
It’s not as if I’m the first person to wrestle with any of this! There is wisdom and grace all around us and I’ve learned much from others who are fully engaged in their aging process as an adventure.
Author and poet Maya Angelou invites us to embrace aging and says that at every age she’s been deeply grateful and found aging “delicious”. She ends her sassy poem, On Aging, with the line, “But ain’t I lucky that I can still breathe in.”
I’m committed to navigating the coming decades as thoughtfully and with as much gratitude as I can muster, including that I’m still breathing. I intend to remain curious and open, and not get stuck in the ageist nonsense that tells me to expect a dreary, lonely old age.
I aspire to weave the threads of my life experiences into a glorious carpet that warms my feet and soothes my eyes as my body and mind carry me forward into old age in the best way they can.
Whether you’re still young and can’t imagine being old; or in your 40s or 50s and just beginning to glimpse the process of aging out there on the horizon; or well into your old age, I invite you to celebrate your birthdays with joy and share your life experience – and your age!
My feisty and fun-loving mother was not even a twinkle in my beautiful grandmother’s eye in the 1916 family photo (above). Both women remained graceful and dignified in their elder years, and I lean into their light and laughter as I leave youth behind.
I honoured and loved my mother and grandmother, who both taught me so much about loving life, including how to celebrate birthdays.
Together, let’s all challenge the limits imposed by ageism by seeking out our elders’ wisdom, learning from their experiences and our own and celebrating lives well lived. And feeling lucky to keep breathing!
